Page:The poems of Richard Watson Gilder, Gilder, 1908.djvu/46

18 Once only, Love, will burn the blood-red fire;

But once awakeneth the wild desire;

Love pleadeth long, but what if love should tire!

Now shall we love, dear Love, or shall we wait!

The day is short, the evening cometh fast;

The time of choosing, Love, will soon be past;

The outer darkness falleth, Love, at last;

Love, let us love ere it be late—too late!

XII—DENIAL

XIII—"ONCE WHEN WE WALKED WITHIN A SUMMER FIELD"

when we walked within a summer field

I pluckt the flower of immortality,

And said, "Dear Love of mine, I give to thee

This flower of flowers of all the round year's yield!"